


coasting

by swallows (toska)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Cats, Friendship, Gen, Light Romance, Non-Specific Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5633707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toska/pseuds/swallows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke got him a cat, it was an old cat— a large long haired-orange tabby whose eyes are a cloudy white because of cataracts. It makes him striking, Anders thinks, with his head up high and all that. “He used to have golden eyes,” Hawke says leaning up against the wall. “Eyes kinda like yours.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	coasting

**Author's Note:**

> i just posted this on tumblr, but anyways
> 
> non-specific hawke, i guess and in a non-specific time period. it was supposed to be a non-specific hawke through and through for writing practice, but bc im oc trash, my hawke's personality is showing a bit there. this cat is pretty much based on my actual cat, so congrats old man- you’ve made it into my fanfics, ilu. (im very emotional about my cat and anders being friends frick) um first time writing anders so i hope i went in the right direction- i haven’t really delved into awakening, im like an hour or so into it so i apologize for mistakes!

Hawke got him a cat, it was an old cat— a large long haired-orange tabby whose eyes are a cloudy white because of cataracts. It makes him striking, Anders thinks, with his head up high and all that. “He used to have golden eyes,” Hawke says leaning up against the wall. “Eyes kinda like yours.”

Anders blushes, partly due to the compliment; mostly due to the intensity in Hawke’s eyes and how they said it. While Hawke takes him to free the mages often, he isn’t on the daily adventuring. “You’re needed as a healer for all these people, right? That’s fine. Just stop by for a pint at the Hangman’s regularly, it’s nice having you around.” Hawke told him once, and Anders remembers seeing the heat rising on their cheeks. It’s funny how Hawke: playful, confident Hawke could get so embarrassed just from being honest.

“He’s an old man, but he’s pretty spry for his age,” Hawke says, head tilting towards the creature who already claimed one of the cots for himself. “I thought the company would be good for you, I know you had a cat once. I know your cat was orange too, shit, maybe this was a bad idea. I’m not trying to replace Ser Pounce-a-lot’s memory or anything. I just…” Hawke trails off, rubbing the back of their neck. There’s that flush again, and Anders bites his lip shaking off the thoughts of Hawke flushed against him because there’s a cat.

An adorable _fluffy,_ tabby feline with dainty paws who boops his finger with his tiny pink nose whenever Anders reaches out. It’s hard not to be charmed. The cat’s friendly, friendlier than most cats ever are during initial meetings. The tabby walks around with his tail held high, even when it manages to bump into walls, or gets startled by loud noises. He sleeps on his back, with his belly out, like a kitten, completely unaware of the dangers of the world— letting his guard down incredibly quickly. It’s amazing how quickly he can come to trust.

Anders wants to take care of it, the cat’s still a scraggly creature, some patches of fur uneven from it’s time outside. There’s a chance it might be worse in Darktown, but it’s okay. He’s here to take care of him now. It’s not possible to heal the eyes, but he tries to ease whatever pain the animal may have. He’s not like Ser Pounce-a-lot, he’s not talkative. But when he comes back from adventuring with Hawke, the cat greets him with a meow and allows him to meow back. It’s enough.

Hawke comes over and talks about the cat, sometimes. Tells Anders all about his history. “He belonged to an old lady in Lowtown, I’d see him following her whenever she went out. But she’s not here anymore, and he doesn’t really have anyone. I don’t really know much, but I noticed. And I can’t say I’m a fan of leaving helpless creatures alone in the rain.” Hawke says, their tone light, but eyes heavy.

There’s no real tension on their back, but their is a burden there. Hawke seems tired, it must be a price of living in Kirkwall, Anders thinks. The cat is tired too, he spends most of days sleeping (the way all cats do), and people watching- ears twitching at every voice. The cat’s always been friendly, friendly and warm, but somewhat reserved. Sometimes the cat doesn’t even stay in the clinic, which leaves him in worry, but the cat’s fine. Always making his way back home, and that phrase brings such a thrill to his chest.

It got better when the cat started settling in close to him, following his voice. Sometimes Hawke would bring friends, and the cat will trot over by the sound of Hawke’s voice and the lure of treats. “He’s like a Mabari,” Hawke tells him one day.

Anders looks at Hawke, affronted. “He’s smarter; he even hunts! He left a dead rat by my feet twice.” Hawke rolls their eyes. “Something that Mabari can’t do.”

“Is your dog considerate enough to gift you a dead animal on First Day? I think not. Also be hygienic for one. Not to mention, not doing a hostile takeover on my own bed.”  Anders retorts, remembering Hawke’s many stories from the tavern.

“You haven’t named him yet,” Hawke says suddenly. “It’s not because I think I’m replacing Ser Pounce-a-lot or anything,” Anders says, scratching him behind the ears, smiling as the purrs get louder. “This guy is no attack cat, despite the brilliant hunting skills. Nothing has really clicked.”

“So what will do we call him, while we wait for a name to click?”

Anders tries to ignore how his heart swelled at “ _we_ ,” and looks back at the cat. The tabby blinks at him, slowly, lazily. Anders finds his heart swelling anyways, and slowly blinks back.

“Friend.” Anders says, and repeats again more firmly. “We’ll call him Friend.”

It’s not a name, but it’s something that has clicked from the start.

For now that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> at some point hawke was supposed to "attack cats exist?" and wreck the nice mood tbh 
> 
> so anyways- First Day is a Thedosian Holiday apparently. "The traditional start of the year, this holiday involves visits to neighbors and family (in remote areas, this was once an annual check to ensure everyone was alive), as well as a town gathering to commemorate the year past, accompanied by drinking and merriment." 
> 
> and that scene was based on the time my cat tried to come in with a dead bird? mouse? during christmas a few years ago and it was all sorts of hilarious and awful. 
> 
> no real specific meaning for the title- i was just listening to the transistor ost and "coasting" was on


End file.
